"Let me in that room, or I'm going to rip this door off its fucking hinges!" he bellowed, his patience fraying as he shoved the door back open.
Isabelle scrambled forward to kick the door quickly shut again. The breath froze in her lungs as he grew eerily quiet on the other side. For a second she thought he would rip the door off, but when seconds ticked by with no sound, and no further attempt to enter, her shoulders slumped in relief, and her head bowed.
The loud crashing shot her head up. A strangled cry escaped her as the door, and part of the wall was torn away and flung aside. Wrath radiated from every inch of his body as he stepped into the room and towered over her. Unable to move, her breath froze in her lungs as his eyes blazed a violent red at her. Pure terror spurted through her veins, her heart jackhammered in her chest, and a thick lump constricted her throat. She would jump up and flee the room, but he blocked her only path to escape.
"Get up!" he barked.
Isabelle knew her legs wouldn't hold her. Instead, she shook her head numbly, unable to tear her gaze away from his thunderous expression. She didn’t think it was possible, but his eyes blazed even brighter. The wrath radiating from him beat at her in waves threatening to drown her within their terrifying depths. She started to recoil, but he grabbed her arms and lifted her.
Isabelle didn't even attempt to fight; she worried he would kill her if she did, he certainly looked irate enough to do it. She was sure he would never harm her, but she wasn't about to take her chances in the face of his hostility. Instead, she hung limply, waiting to see what he would do as dread hummed through every inch of her body. However, even though he was trembling with wrath, his hands on her arms were not bruising.
He threw her onto the bed and climbed on top of her. His knees were on either side of her hips, and his hands clasped her arms at her sides. She stared breathlessly up at him, trembling with dread, as he glowered at her. Power and strength radiated from him. She recalled how he ripped the door off its hinges, and tossed it aside as if it weighed no more than a feather. She didn't even want to think about what he could do to her if he wanted to.
"Now, you are going to listen to me!" he spat. "I am not going anywhere. So, you better get that realization through your thick skull right now, Isabelle, or so help me I will ram it in there! Do you understand me?" When she didn't answer fast enough for his liking, his hands tightened upon her arms, and he shook her a little. "Do you understand me?"
Her lower lip trembled as she managed a weak nod. "Yes," she whispered. He unclenched his rigid jaw. Finally, he was beginning to make some headway with her. "But you left before."
His head snapped up, and his eyes narrowed. He should have known better than to think she would concede so quickly. Just once, he wished she would make things easy for him, not constantly put him on the defensive.
"I left because I thought it was the best thing for you, for me," he grated through clenched teeth. "I got you injured that night—"
"No, you didn't!"
"Yes, I did. You were trying to avoid me; that's the reason you even went to the club. I thought it would be better if I left, but like it or not, I came back, and I’m not going again. Do you understand?" he demanded.
"Yes," she whispered.
He remained completely rigid on top of her, knowing better than to think she would acquiesce so easily. Not Isabelle. Never his Isabelle.
"You are going to stop fighting me, Isabelle, I mean it,” he commanded. “There will be no more of this. You're mine, and the sooner you realize it, the happier we will both be."
She looked up at him as some of her distress and doubt melted away. His eyes returned to their onyx color, but there was still a savage gleam in them. She was his, she knew that, but it wasn't enough.
"Are you mine?" she demanded haughtily.
His jaw clenched again. He was hers; he knew that. He’d learned it over the past couple of days, but to tell her exactly how much he cared for her would open himself to a vulnerability he wasn’t ready for. Her eyes darkened with grief, and in that instant, he knew he would tell her anything to make her happy. No matter how much he hated how weak and exposed it made him feel.
"Yes, I am yours,” he admitted.
The beautiful smile spreading over her face could make him rip the moon out of the sky if she asked for it.
"And I’m yours," she whispered.
The remaining dregs of his anger vanished as he lifted his hand to rub over her silky cheek. "Now, do you care to tell me why you were so upset? And don't try to tell me it was over what I said because we both know there was more to it."
"No," she mumbled.
His jaw locked again as his hand stilled on her cheek. "You said you were going to stop fighting me.”
"I'm not fighting you!" she cried. "I just... I..." Her face turned a vibrant shade of red as she lowered her long, inky black lashes.
Stefan stared down at her in confusion as she refused to look at him. He knew it took a lot to embarrass her, but her entire body was suffusing with heat as she bit nervously into her lower lip.
"Isabelle, tell me." She shook her head while he stroked her warm cheek. "Please."
The please tugged at her, making her want to pour her heart out to him. To tell him all her insecurities, but what if he didn't reassure her, and only confirmed her worst fears? She decided to take the plunge and ask. He would just keep bothering her anyway, and try as she might, she couldn't come up with a plausible lie to keep him at bay. Besides, she was certain she couldn't lie to him, even if she could think of one. Lifting her eyes back to his, the last of her hesitance melted away as he gazed at her with concern and tender warmth.
"Am I any good?"
He strained to hear her. When her words finally penetrated, he almost laughed but managed to catch himself in time. He didn't want to think about what she would do if he burst into laughter. He remembered now that she started to grow distant when he told her he would teach her how to make love. Sometimes, he was an insensitive idiot, he realized with an inward groan.
"I have never felt anything like what I feel when I'm with you. Trust me, darling; you are much better than good, you're spectacular."
She looked back at him. The tender vulnerability in her eyes tore at his heart.
"Really?" she whispered hopefully.
He shifted and nudged her thighs apart so he could press the hard evidence of his arousal against her inner thigh. Passion bloomed in her eyes.
"This is what you do to me," he grated hoarsely. "No one has ever affected me like this, Isabelle, no one. I’ve never put up with as much aggravation with anyone else as I do from you."
Her eyes twinkled with amusement. "You're no barrel of laughs, you know."
He cocked an eyebrow as he smiled back at her. "And why is that?"
"Well, you're arrogant, inconsiderate, bossy, demanding, and more than a little temperamental."
Stefan pressed the tip of his head against her wet, inviting folds. Isabelle bit her bottom lip and lifted her hips to him. "You flatter me, but you do realize you just described yourself."
"I am not inconsiderate!" she cried indignantly.
He slid his head into her. She drew her legs up, bracing them against his slick sides as she opened herself further to his invasion. "But you admit to being the other things?"
Her eyes twinkled as she wrapped her arms around his neck to play with the hair curling along his nape. He shuddered as he fought the urge to plunge into her, but he was enjoying teasing her and watching the variety of emotions crossing her face.
"Sometimes," she conceded. "But at least I don't rip doors out of the wall."
He laughed as he bent to nibble on her lip. "No, you just cause me to do it."
She grinned at him. "Your temper caused you to do it."
"Trust me; no one can provoke my temper like you."
"I know the feeling," she gasped as he drove all the way into her.
Chapter Eighteen
"Isabelle!" Is
abelle groaned as she buried herself deeper into her pillows. "Isabelle!"
"Go away, Willow!" she shouted.
"Isabelle, get up!" She lifted her head as she realized Stefan was no longer in bed with her. Her brow furrowed as she wondered where he was and when he left. "Isabelle!"
"What?" she asked.
"I can't find Cassidy and Kyle!" Willow cried.
"Get Ethan!"
"Everybody went to get more supplies for the new house, and they've been missing for almost an hour!"
She groaned again as she thrust the tangled sheet off her. An hour was a long time for the two of them to be gone. "Hold on!"
She dressed quickly, wondering if Stefan went with everyone for supplies, or if he was around here somewhere. Brushing out her hair, she pulled it into a loose ponytail and opened the door. Willow's pretty face was stressed with anxiety as her dark violet eyes nervously scanned Isabelle.
"I don't know where they went," Willow said anxiously.
"We'll find them," Isabelle assured her. Willow's dark blonde hair bobbed up and down as she nodded vigorously. "Come on."
Willow followed her up the stairs, through the living room, and outside. Isabelle paused on the porch as her gaze traveled to the new house. They had made a lot of progress on it in the past few days, but she hadn't noticed until now. The outside walls and porch were in place; the large oak door was up, and most of the windows were in place. A tingle of excitement raced through her as she realized the house would be completed soon.
"He went with the others," Vicky informed her.
Isabelle tore her gaze away from the house as Vicky and Abby stepped onto the porch. Isabelle took a deep breath and hopped quickly down the steps. "Where was the last place you saw them?"
"I left them at the tree house," Willow answered.
Isabelle nodded as she moved toward the path to the tree house.
"You must be happy Stefan came back," Abby said.
Isabelle cast a glance over her shoulder to find the twins grinning knowingly at her. She couldn't stop herself from smiling back at them.
"Jess is going to freak when she finds out he came back," Abby said.
"She doesn't know yet?" Isabelle’s good mood vanished at the thought of Jess's reaction.
"No, she was still asleep when he went into town, and I don't think mom is going to tell her."
"I'd like to," Vicky said. "Just to see her face."
"Be nice," Isabelle scolded.
"Why?" Vicky demanded. "She's not nice to you."
"Do you blame her?"
"Yes!" they both cried.
Isabelle shook her head at them. "If it were one of you guys, you wouldn't be saying that."
They both scowled at her. "Obviously the two of you are supposed to be together," Vicky said.
"She doesn't know that," Isabelle reminded them.
"Well, she will now!" Abby snapped.
Isabelle stopped when they arrived at the tree house. She glanced around the small clearing, but there was no sign of Cassidy or Kyle. A feeling of impending doom grew in the pit of her stomach. An hour was much too long for them to be missing.
"You guys head to the lake,” she instructed. “Willow and I will go toward the canyon."
Vicky and Abby nodded, the amusement on their faces gone as they broke off to take the path to the lake. Willow followed behind Isabelle as she moved down the trail calling loudly for Kyle and Cassidy. Sun splashed through the thick leaves, casting a myriad of patterns across the pine needles and decaying leaves. The forest seemed too quiet. She broke into a brisk jog when the canyon was only a hundred feet away.
She was panting as she skidded to a halt at the edge of the canyon. It was about twenty feet long and forty feet down. It was the same one Ethan threw himself off when he was fifteen. She swallowed her fear and forced herself to look down. Isabelle scanned the bottom and the jagged rock walls, but there was no sign of either Kyle or Cassidy.
"Maybe they went home," Willow suggested.
Isabelle wished that was true, but the awful feeling in her stomach spread to her chest. Glancing around the woods, she ignored the birdcalls and the animals moving within its shadowed depths. She forced herself to concentrate on her brother and sister, hoping to get some glimmer of where they could be.
Then, a sinking possibility crashed around her. She broke into a sprint as she rushed down another path. She rushed around tree branches and twigs and ignored the thorns tearing at her clothing and skin. She forced herself to move faster, blurring as she rushed down the path. Please no, she pleaded silently. Please no.
She burst off the path and rushed through the clearing to the edge of the bear trap. Holding her breath, she peered into it. Cassidy was huddled against the wall, looking up at her with tears streaming down her dirt and blood-streaked cheeks. She held Kyle in her arms, his head cradled in her lap. Blood and dirt caked his wheat blond hair, and his clothes were a deadly shade of red.
Isabelle's heart jumped into her throat as tears sprang into her eyes. Willow let out a startled cry as she skidded to a halt beside her. "He fell," Cassidy whispered pitifully.
That heartbreaking whisper snapped Isabelle out of her paralysis. "Get help!" she yelled at Willow.
Willow nodded quickly and took off into the woods. "Isabelle," Cassidy whispered.
"Hold on, Cass; I'm coming."
She glanced worriedly at the stakes as she sat at the edge of the pit. Now that she wasn't hanging over the pit, she could get a better look at the jagged, deadly stakes. They were old, and some of them were rotted and broken off from time and weather, but even the blunted wood was lethal looking. She scooted closer to the edge as she tried to figure out the best way to get down. Finally deciding there was no best way, she lowered herself over and slid down the side.
One of the stakes pierced through her shoe and tore into the bottom of her foot. The sudden agony almost caused her to pitch backward onto all the stakes, but she managed to catch herself in time. Flinging herself forward, her fingers dug frantically into the dirt and tree roots of the wall as she steadied herself. Breathing heavily, and with gritted teeth, she remained pressed against the wall as she pulled her foot free of the stake.
She took a deep breath before turning herself around. Cassidy watched as she began to edge her way carefully around the stakes, trying to keep her weight off her injured foot. It seemed like hours passed before she made it to Kyle and Cassidy, but it was only a matter of seconds before she knelt at their side.
Kyle was still, his breathing labored as he worked to push and pull air in and out of his lungs. The gurgled sound sent a bolt of fear through her so intense she almost choked on it. He was so pale even his lips were white, and all of his veins were noticeable through his nearly translucent skin.
It took everything Isabelle had to push through her distress and nearly choking sorrow. With trembling hands, she gingerly pulled his shirt up. The gaping wound in his stomach oozed bubbles of blood. Cassidy cried harder as Isabelle shoved his shirt the rest of the way up to find another large, jagged tear in the middle of his chest.
He was bleeding out so fast he hadn't begun to close the wounds on his own. "Oh no," she whispered.
Cassidy was shaking from the force of her tears. "Please help him, Isabelle," she pleaded.
Isabelle ripped her tank top off and pressed it firmly against Kyle's chest. His eyelids flickered, but he made no other movement, no sound. "Hold this," she commanded Cassidy.
Cassidy pressed a trembling hand against the shirt; it quickly saturated with blood. Isabelle fought back tears as she bit into her wrist and forced Kyle's mouth open. She needed to replace the blood he was rapidly losing, needed to attempt to keep his strength up.
She lifted her head to scan the edge of the pit. It was a good ten feet up; there was no way she could get them out on her own. She turned her attention back to her brother. Her blood wasn't making a dent in the amount he’d lost, but she hoped it would be enough to keep him
alive until help arrived.
* * *
Stefan threw the board into the back of the truck and turned to accept the next one from David. "This should be the last load," Mike said.
"Good." Jack wiped his arm across his sweaty forehead. "I can't wait to get this house finished."
"Wish I could have gone back to school sooner," Ian mumbled.
"Just think about how nice it will be when you come back," Ethan replied.
Ian grinned as he tossed a board into the back of the other truck. Stefan grabbed another board from David and threw it in. He was beginning to wish he hadn't agreed to come with them. The clawing sensation in his chest was growing more intense, and more uncomfortable with every passing minute.
He couldn't keep his mind on the conversation around him; he was growing increasingly agitated and irritable. All he wanted to do was go back to the house, curl up in bed with Isabelle, and forget about the rest of the world. However, he needed to feed. It had been more than three days since he last had, and when he awoke again this morning, the hunger burning through his body was almost unbearable. Now sated on two of the employees from the lumberyard, a new sensation had begun to grow.
He ground his teeth as he tossed another board into the truck. He just wanted to get this wood loaded as quickly as possible and get back to the house. He would see Isabelle before he returned to help with the new house, which he wanted to be finished as soon as possible. It would be much more enjoyable to stay there with Isabelle. Of course, Ethan would be there too, but at least it wasn't a house load of people.
Tossing another board onto the load, he quickly wiped the sweat from his brow. He glanced over at Ethan as he bent to pick up another board. He had apologized to him about the other night, and Ethan seemed to accept it, but he could still sense wariness in him.
Stefan didn't blame him in the least; he was a little wary of himself. Something wasn't right with him still, but he didn't know what it was. He was beginning to feel like the same as when he left, unstable and angry. Isabelle helped to ease it when he saw her, but now he wasn't near her, it was starting to come back with a vengeance.
The Vampire Awakenings Bundle: Books 1-5 Page 47